


Box Lunch

by floraltohru



Category: Fruits Basket, Fruits Basket (Anime 2019), Fruits Basket - Takaya Natsuki (Manga)
Genre: And also Kunimitsu is there, Canon Compliant, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Kyo freaks out and overthinks things, Post-Canon, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, spoilers for the end of the manga
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:13:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25063696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floraltohru/pseuds/floraltohru
Summary: Kyo has a minor existential crisis during his lunch break with Kunimitsu.
Relationships: Honda Tohru/Sohma Kyou
Comments: 43
Kudos: 193





	Box Lunch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AnxietyAvocado](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnxietyAvocado/gifts).



It’s very rarely quiet in Shigure’s house these days; Kyo tries not to be selfish, but he does think that sometimes it would be nice to have a few hours after school to relax with Tohru free of the company of his cousins. 

But of course, they all invited themselves over again tonight. Haru humbly requested ginger pork the same way he does every time he visits and Momiji draped himself over everyone in the room including, now that he can, Tohru. She thrives in the space where her circles clash, and Kyo can tell that she’ll glow for weeks simply for the fact that Rin and Hana-chan entertained a conversation that was, admittedly, mostly just Knowing Goth Eye Contact. Yuki even stayed for a while before leaving to meet up with his girlfriend, who he keeps promising Tohru she’ll get to meet eventually. It's a small thing to note, but his absence doesn’t thrill Kyo the way it might’ve even just a year or so ago. 

Kyo reminds himself over and over again that it’s only fair to allow Tohru these moments; a part of him still feels sharp and spiny and selfish for asking her to move away with him and, by extension, leave behind the people she’s grown to love so dearly. Heavy stones settle in his stomach any time he thinks too hard about the fact that the leaving of it all will make her sad, but she’s spirited and determined and reassures him time and again that it’s a choice she’s making for herself as much as him. She’s right, of course, and he wouldn’t dream of robbing her of her agency. But still. He worries. 

Lost in thought, Kyo realizes he’s been forming the same rice ball for nearly ten minutes now, the breeze from the open window ruffling his hair, still wet from the shower. 

He jumps when a pair of hands snakes around his waist, coming to rest at his sides as Tohru sets her forehead on his shoulder. “What are you doing?” she murmurs, muffled against the light cotton of his T-shirt. 

“Lunch for tomorrow.” He sets the riceball down to tousle her own damp hair affectionately, breathing in the smell of soap and strawberry shampoo. “I’m shadowing Kunimitsu at the dojo,” he reminds her, “so I’ll be home late.” 

“Oh, right! Tell Kunimitsu-san I said hello,” Tohru chirps, and Kyo will never tire of the way her eyes scrunch up when she smiles. 

“I always do,” he says. “And he always says hello back.” 

“We should invite him over for dinner sometime.” There she goes again, looking bound and determined and absolutely bewitching. “What does he like to eat?” 

“I’ll have to ask,” Kyo says. “He mostly eats that boxed curry stuff, but I think that’s because it’s usually all Shishou keeps around.” He extracts his hand from her hair to keep working on his rice balls. He stops again when Tohru reaches out, resting her small hand over his. 

“Can I?” 

“Make my lunch?” Despite the cool breeze from the window, Kyo can feel the tips of his ears blazing pink. 

“If that’s alright?” she says quickly, and at least the tint to her cheeks matches his. 

Of course it would be alright. She's cooked for him before. But it feels strangely intimate now that they've defined all of the searing, nebulous feelings between them. It feels like another first. First hug, first kiss, first fight, first… Kyo blushes again at the thought, his brain spinning out rapidly as she waits for an answer.

It's just that it feels like something a wife would do. 

"Kyo?" 

"Sure," he says at last, his brain finally settling on a response with little conscious consideration on his part. He finds himself stepping aside to give her space to work before he can even register what he's agreed to. "If you want?" 

"Of course I do." She pokes him lightly in the side before taking over, her hands lithe and practiced. 

_ Of course she does.  _

"Oh, I think I've still got some fish," she murmurs, and the way she hums to herself while she shuffles around in the fridge is enough to make Kyo fall in love with her all over again. 

There's not much more to be said, so Kyo leans up against the counter and watches her work, studying her slender fingers as they move with a meticulous kind of grace. 

"All done," she says at last, sealing up the box and stacking it carefully in the fridge on top of the leftovers from dinner. 

"We should go to bed," Kyo says, and he says it as much for his benefit as for hers. He could sit here in complete silence with her until sunrise, sustained by just the knowledge that she's in the same room. 

But tomorrow is an early morning, even for Kyo.

It's a short walk to her bedroom; she holds his hand anyway, like it's a few city blocks and not just a stairwell and change. 

He kisses her goodnight at her door and keeps walking down the hall to his own room, like a gentleman. 

But with every step away, he's counting down the days until he doesn't have to. 

Kunimitsu is already two cups of coffee into his day by the time Kyo arrives at the dojo, and the sun has barely crested over the horizon. As it happens, he spends just as much time trying to keep Kazuma in line as he does balancing the day-to-day operations. Either task would be a full-time job. 

Kyo would never admit it, but he's a little bit impressed. 

Their lunch break, when it arrives at last, is well-deserved. The weather is pleasant, a gentle afternoon on the back of a few rainy days, so they sit outside on the engawa. 

"Oh," Kyo says, popping the lid off his bento. "Tohru said hi."

"Sweet girl. Tell her I said hello."

"Yeah. I will." 

They've never been much for idle chatter; Kunimitsu is friendly enough in the right company, but he knows how to entertain himself, and Kyo respects that he doesn't just talk to fill up space. So they sit comfortably in a warm, companionable silence until Kyo remembers Tohru's second request. 

"Oh, right. She wants you to come for dinner sometime."

"Really?" 

"What do you want to eat?" Kyo says by way of an answer. 

"Honestly? Anything but boxed curry."

"I'll let her know." Kyo can already see the way her face will light up as she considers the possibilities. She'll probably end up overthinking and panicking in the grocery store and buying too many ingredients. Sometimes he thinks she might possibly be too adorable to function. 

"So are you two engaged?" Kunimitsu asks around a mouthful of rice. 

Kyo nearly chokes on his own food. "Huh?" 

"Well, you're living together. And she made your lunch, right?" 

_ Is it that obvious?  _ Kyo thinks, but upon observation, it's definitely clear that his lunch looks far more clean and precise than it would have if crafted by his own hands. 

"Well, yeah, but…" Kyo trails off. How can he even begin to explain it to Kunimitsu? 

"Kyo," Kunimitsu laughs, a single lighthearted note that echoes across the yard. "It's kind of a yes or no question. Did you ask her to marry you?" 

"I asked her to move away with me," Kyo says, and he absolutely cannot look at Kunimitsu because he knows his face is an even brighter shade than his hair. 

"Is that the same thing?" 

Is it? He had looked into her eyes and he had seen that she knew exactly what he was asking, exactly what it entailed, exactly what he wanted. When he asked, he asked with  _ intention  _ and  _ devotion  _ and  _ declaration.  _ And she understood.

He thought she understood. But now, sitting outside the dojo with his half-eaten bento in his lap, he's second guessing himself. 

"I think so?" he says weakly.

It's almost brotherly, the way Kunimitsu claps Kyo on the shoulder, shaking him out of his spiral. 

"Look," he says. "I didn't mean to freak you out. If you both know, then you know, right?" 

"Right." 

"And for what it's worth," Kunimitsu says, reaching across Kyo to snag a pickled plum from his box, "I'm really glad you found someone who makes you this happy."

"Thanks."

"Also, never let her go or you're going to be stuck eating boxed curry with Kazuma until you drop dead. Take it from me."

"And now you've ruined it."

Kunimitsu laughs and they lapse back into a comfortable quiet, but Kyo's mind is still running laps around itself. 

Even later, his arms and legs burning as he spars during one of the advanced classes, he can't stop thinking about it. He has to know, in so many words. 

_ Never let her go.  _

Kyo feels silly knocking on Tohru's door. He feels like a kid, small even in this body that towers over her, with these hands that dwarf hers. 

She's halfway through working her hair into a soft side braid, one hand still holding the plait in place. "Hi?" she says. Not unhappy - never unhappy - to see him, but perhaps surprised that he's on her threshold at this hour. 

"Tohru are we…" he starts, and he hates that he's fidgety, his hand coming up to rest on the back of his neck on instinct. Kyo wants to be confident about this, damn it. He knows what he wants. He knows  _ who _ he wants. He's never been more certain of anything in his life. 

Sometimes he loves her so much it pains him, white hot and scorching his veins when he remembers what it felt like to realize exactly what he had to lose. 

What it felt like to almost lose it. 

Kyo grasps for words, trying to string together something coherent while Tohru watches, her usual open expression gradually twisting into one of concern. 

"Are we going to get married?" he asks at last, still not fully satisfied with the way the words fit together in sequence. It feels awkward, but it'll have to do. 

Her laughter always reminds him of windchimes, high and clear and soft. With it, the tension evaporates from her face and she throws her arms around him. "Of course we are," she says. "You already asked, remember?" 

He does. And did, but not in so many words. Not for the first time, he thanks whatever force is at work in the universe that he's finally found someone who's fluent in what he thought was his own dead language. 

"I remember," he says, curling over her, his embrace tightening. He'd hold her like this forever if he could, but for now he's content to cling to her until he's confident he's a little less misty-eyed. "I just wanted to make sure." 

**Author's Note:**

> for mars, some kyohru for your birthday~! happy birthday~!


End file.
